god takes your soul, you're on your own
by prettypinklips
Summary: The five lives they could have lived, and the one they did. Klaus, Caroline, biker gangs, fairy tales, glee club, & more. / A mini-series.
1. Chapter 1

**god takes your soul, you're on your own**

.

.

.

—

#1; **biker gangs? really? like... _seriously? _**(sons of anarchy au)

Nik bangs the gavel, once, twice, thrice, and Damon stamps his cigarette out on the heel of his boot. "This murder thing is getting tedious." the dark haired man says, shrugging into his leather jacket, "Do we really have to kill every low life crack dealer in Mystic Falls?" he turns his eerie blue eyes on his President, the head of the club's table. The man with the cards, the plans, the weapons, and the scores to settle.

Nik glances at him, flicking his own cigarette. He blows a steady stream of smoke out of his mouth before answering, snidely, "Do you have to question every order I give, Vice?" he questions, eyeballing the patch on Damon's leather club jacket.

"You know, Nik, he has a point. What'd this guy even do, besides pollute the air with his crack breath and meth pipe smoke?" Stefan questions from Nik's other side. He leans back in his chair, kicks his feet onto the table, eyeballs Rebekah standing at the bar, tilting a beer at him. Nik rolls his eyes, used to the disgustingly sweet Stefan and Rebekah show.

Nik thinks on Stefan's comments for a moment before deciding to give a half truth, "He stuck his filthy paws up Caroline's skirt last night. Any other questions?"

Damon and Stefan exchange a glance, Stefan making his patented I-really-don't-have-a-problem-with-killing-whoever-we're-killing-today-so-I-don't-know-why-you're-complaining-Damon-I-mean-you're-so-ridiculous-it's-just-_murder_ face, Damon lighting another cigarette, both shrugging their shoulders. Because it's a known rule. It's a law, rather. A hand laid on a club leader's woman is a hand wrapped around your throat. Nik couldn't count on one hand how many throats Damon had slit for a man looking at Katherine wrong, and then there was Rebekah. He was pretty sure Stefan was some kind of serial killer with the amount of followers the Rebekah fan cult had.

This is was only slightly different. Caroline wasn't some cute little bubblegum pop candy cane licking sweetheart he'd picked up on the side of the road. She was his Queen, the blonde head ruling at his side. His lady. His woman. The princess.

And he'd kill any man brave enough, or dumb enough, to even _think _of laying a finger on her.

—

A rusty knife, a cracked meth pipe, a bucket of bleach, one length of rope, a roll of duct tape, a bloodied blue tarp, and six hours later, Nik closes the back door of Caroline's borrowed sedan, dusting his hands off. Damon leans against the black sedan, smoking, "That little shit spit blood on my shirt," he gripes to himself, scrubbing a hand at his black t-shirt. Stefan is further down the road, on the phone, listening to Rebekah complain about his lack of commitment and his lack of restraint in committing murders without her. "_I_ wanted to slit his throatttt." Nik can hear her whine.

He pushes off of the sedan, claps Damon on the shoulder, and climbs into the car. "I'm going to get Caroline, find your own ways home." he tells the brothers before gunning the engine, smirking. In the rear view mirror, Damon and Stefan lift twin middle fingers in his direction.

—

Half an hour later, Nik finds himself pushing the drivers seat all the way down, Caroline wiggling out of her skirt on top of him, elbow smashing into the horn. She giggles, tossing her skirt away, leaning down to press her cherry red lips against his, and oh god, she's only seventeen but _the way she moves. _He groans, gripping her hips as she rocks above him. She yanks at his belt, eyes begging him, and he hastily complies, jerking the button of his jeans open. And just as he's pealing them off, and Caroline is flicking her hair back, licking at her lips, lifting her shirt over her head, she pauses—

—eyes widening, lips parting, nostrils flaring.

"Is there a _body_ in the back of my sedan?!" she shrieks.

_—_

**up next: **a_ once upon a time _au


	2. Chapter 2

**god takes your soul, you're on your own**

.

.

.

—

#2; **once upon a time, there was a...** (once upon a time au)

"There is a castle. A castle nestled by the sea, nestled in the sand, waves crashing and smoothing against the side, the sky is always the bluest of blues, and the air smells of—A castle by the sea?" Caroline repeats, snapping the book shut, "Of all the bullshit things I've read—"

"Hey!" Elena snaps, snatching her fairytale book away from Caroline, holding it gingerly to her heart, "Don't mess with my castle by the sea."

"Elena, you can't honestly believe in this nonsense, and I don't know why you're trying to convince me." Caroline smooths a hand through her hair, waves at Bonnie to bring her another cup of coffee. Bonnie and her grandma run the only coffee shop in Mystic Falls, or the-place-every-mythical-creature-in-disguise-landed-in-when-fairytale-land-was-overrun-by-an-evil-dragon-lady, but that's only if you listened to what Elena said. Which Caroline didn't. Because this was the real world. Like, duh.

"I do. Because it's real. Like, all of it." the brunette sitting across from her says in earnest, eyes widening, "And you're the key. If you don't believe, then nobody will ever remember who they are! And we'll all just be stuck in time forever." she finishes sadly, "Don't you want to find your prince, Caroline?" she asks softly.

"This isn't England, Elena," Caroline scoffs, "there aren't any princes here."

Elena's eyes flick to the coffee shop's door. "Maybe." she concedes, "But maybe not." she adds, grinning when the door opens and the bells jingle.

Caroline rolls her eyes, follows Elena's eyes. The man walking through the door looks windswept, blonde hair curling adorably around his ears, scruff on his chin and cheeks. His blue eyes sparkle with something like laughter, and she's...curious, for the lack of a better word. She hasn't met this man in the short time she's been in this town. He flits to the counter, grey Henley sticking out in contrast of the brightness in the room. He orders, and Caroline turns back to Elena.

"And who's _he _supposed to be?" she questions upon seeing Elena's glowing expression.

Elena shrugs, standing and shouldering her bag, "I thought you didn't believe in princes, Caroline. Which is too bad, 'cause if you did he'd be yours." she calls over her shoulder as she pushes the door open and jogs out, leaving behind a very flustered and red Caroline, who looks over her shoulder just in time to catch the man at the counter looking over his shoulder at her.

_My prince, huh?_ she thinks, turning back around, biting her lip, _eh, I coulda done worse._

_—_

**up next: **a_ glee _au


End file.
